27 February 1992
Nice paper. This February. Today the next door German landlord cut the grass, smell of it as I'm opening the car door, standing in the alley. Chinese Mrs in curlers with peas strung up the centre of a fresh trench. Apple tart in the Hong Kong. The day is thrilling. Looking thru to the street a giddy joy.
Yesterday in Montreal, with Cheryl in a café. She said, If you ever want to write that, I'll help you any way I can, I'll remember conversations, I'll make you meals. "I love that little girl so much." That was in the Tagore. I'm too excited to sit here and write.
The sun in the herb garden -
28
Am I going to make films, am I through to the back? Have I overturned demons?
29
Saturday. What to make of this year. A work life. Maybe ten, maybe forty, years. I'd like to start again. The house where I used to live with Luke.
1 March
- A way to round up what I learned then -
- it would be the currencies of the time, superstitions -
- parts I don't know because they have them, tapes -
- tensions of alternatives, finding a justice -
- it would be the currencies of the time, superstitions -
2nd
It takes some hours for the chemical softening. By morning I might have been all the way there. Radio news turns on at 6:30, he's going to work. I look sweeter. Let's do it again soon.
Actors learning a lot of minds.
3rd
Reading the 1976 journal as if Louie is.
[Opposite page, Dames rocket notes:
the light in early morning, May
a strength of fire in the air
mirror
round earthenware pot
fire in sunlight
glass with leaves in water
color like Persian paintings, red blue turquoise green mauve silver
a fullness of erotic turn-on, balance, a humorous centre, something rich and confident
stone of the moon, a stone in orbit
white cheesecloth in sunlight
the pink photograph
light moving prismatic on rough paper
point of light, the radiating dazzle
voices
breasts, back, hands
I was seeing there were many minds
the pleasure of consciousness
speech so direct it stuns
a few things seen in clearest light
starling on a wire with clouds moving fast behind it
not afraid of anything I know, complete]
[Tarthang Tulku notes:
pacifying - feeling out a situation very softly as a whole
extinguishing - when there are pseudoconcepts
enriching - texturing with your own influence
magnetizing - gathering energies together
frivolousness acts reflexively, too much anxiety; spontaneity works with the whole situation
idiot compassion vs complete compassion
lion's roar is the dance of unresisted energy of emotions, everything we experience is workable, unclear relation to it is what makes it hard
strategies for relating to projections: indifference, grasping, aggression
the skandas a means of providing confusion and thereby entertainment and being]
5th Golden Horse Café
After this what happens is Louie wants to sleep over and I suddenly grope her. It's for the perfection of how she's turned, perfect warm ivory. But her clit has an odd bit of sandpaper at the tip, she's not coming. It puts me into sore loneliness, cramp between the eyebrows. It's the first time she's been like that. She says touch me a little bit more. There's certainty again.
In the morning she wants the story of the table. It's also a story of two strange men. Telling her and touching her she's the girl. I notice she's in my place in the story. (Here I raced on telling Joyce two-spirit people.) (And here I looked up and saw a very beautiful man looking at me, who had come in with a small woman and a baby. I'd been staring boldly but being startled in the midst of my thought made me immediately weaker - being startled by a straight look in a writer's face.) Need lovers for each of the spirits and maybe I could touch L again because she'd been alright about Rob. (The weakness is a shame at feeling him beautiful.) Writing to C that having two lovers was a study in not giving up either side of an inconsistency.
Also: we each felt we were the unloved one, against the evidence.
Which of all the ways to tell the story. I thought to tell it in colors but what's the stretch. Does it crash into b/w. Dames rocket and A spirit uncertain of its appearance. The acceleration in women's minds when they release their erotic interest in each other. - My language is very schoolish I'm noticing.
What would be the images. Is it then? If so I don't have images. If it's now I only have one body and my own the wrong age.
[More Dames rocket:
layers of cloud their movement stopping and starting
winged girl on the wall
sound of earth sucking in water
the strong peaceful I am of beautiful things exactly seen, and the other I am of curious attitude
then I saw how it would be to share everything with somebody, the thoughts behind the thoughts
how she laid her head back and closed her eyes
late night music
unsatisfied with how people talk - this isn't anything, this is so nobody here - how long I've had that fury
trains shaking the house
what rhythms of the mind of the time
the light inside the border of a shadow
magnifying glass
woke at night with a sense of things understood in some delicate way, I can't recover it now, but a tuning that was new and lovely, it was T, a fullness of somewhere I'd been with her - oh T I thought, come all open
a falsity is a tension; the ease and safety of the actual
notice where people are, how far forward
being at the exact point of your moment and not vaulted over it into an intention
I look around me in a new world where everything speaks its meaning so securely and happily, but I am only ghostly there
fine-grained, rosy, bright-eyed in a tight shiny-skinned body, that's how I'll know when mind is right
a mirror out of focus trembling
when I held her and heard how she breathed
you don't feel lost in it? found. is there a danger in that?
she speaks to people so their deep voice hears itself, and then they feel, they feel that they have lost themselves
it was good kissing
seeing you born, it takes me back to the time it was happening for me
it's deciding what part of what you're being is your own, every lie brutalizes a situation
when I talk to her there is a different sense of space than when I talk to anyone else, it is a sense of an equal horizontal reach, my forehead stands open
in the beginning she was teaching me amazing things about my mind, it was in my interest to do what she said
I'm never going to know you but I love to hold you
she said she had never seen me so soft
I love this time of night
the three of you, you have the same look of going in one direction, not dispersed
to stop giving my power to objects
he said, for years I went into people's houses and had a silent sense of despair because of their quotations
finding a way, breathing onto her fingers
the way long times are the blanks of repression, repression of curiosity and pain
a mind has to act, to be in communication with other minds of the same self
am I lost will always be there
my pain is that I need to hold you, talking to you, the whole time, there's that pain
my body adapts to the use I give it, the acid marvel is a queen of Egypt
every person is a place we can be
we stood at the entrance to my room and looked at the open bed in candlelight
you do it good! you do it good!
thoughts like asterisks, sudden starred revelations about the meaning of not being diminished anymore (oh and I'm free to ...)
hersperis matronalis, dames' rocket, dames' violet, a common weed naturalized in waste ground, a member of the phlox family which blooms in early summer and releases a scent which is a powerful gland stimulant
the acceleration that occurs when women speak and touch amongst themselves
responsible for all the things you must do before you can even recognize the significance of what is coming up
in work so every moment is charged with something coming to the surface
instruments tuned in various ways, various ranges and capacities
'to find ourselves' is a curious concept
the way the physical world lets us see the spirit's state
do you ever have a dream where you're walking down a corridor thru a lot of familiar rooms and then you open a door and ---?
named actual weeds, chickweed, borage
blue-green like an opal
holy ghost that came, the day after
singing
reverie which lives the present of happy images
the light in a stone
we are mortal enemies said estraven, I would swear kemmering with you. and I with you said the other.
oh but the force of gravity all the same kept me awake more than once
geometry say the sufis is the root of all knowledge
a triangle I saw in the branches of two trees
angels a sudden visit of a superior being
as if there flowed from me in waves the strength that made me the chosen mate of those strong, silent powers which sit around me mutely as on thrones
a science, an art, a knowledge, a way, a tribe
angels are the powers hidden in the faculties and organs
on the soundtrack of ideas of angels I say COME come come come
image of a white ash blowing a ...
what's the symbolism of women putting their hands skillfully to each other's sexes - it seems a consciousness - the hand is the organ of craft and skill, the most intelligent limb, the most sensitive surface of the body - for women it is a symbol of shared control
sworddance on a dazzling gangplank with that black planet I've taken into my wildest hopes
crow's yells
sidewalk, curb, pavement, cars' shadows and sounds
gestures of the tips of branches
crossing shadows on grates and grills
a roseleaf tip matte red-green against brown-grey littered earth
birds' shadows, sometimes with a sound
following attractions toward structures
music with an underpaper of another kind of music
most faithful to ecstasy in the most structurally intelligent way
daphne said going into a poem is like going into a house, you go in and look around and there are doors and windows
a poppy dropped one petal onto the magnifying glass, turning and sliding in spilt pollen
the silver ceiling of water is always shaking
what's taken me so far into humiliation, the power of the body
everyone of them a secret soul, all impersonating people and all feeling ashamed to be doing it, and I was desperate among them. no one is real for me as they are
willow poplar fireweed surface of the river boiling brown and blue
pea flowers and white moths
a little pile of glass at the place where the light came in
the backstop, nets
seem to be trying to learn to ask and answer the questions faster
when I wrote something she wouldn't say that's very good she'd say how it was for her
the confusions of those meetings are that both are partly in hiding
there was a confusion trying to find her level. level has something to do with loneliness accepted
I peer at them to try to see who they are. that's wrong. you feel into yourself and find them there.]
6th
What sort of day it is. Want to go OUT. Cold and stuffy.
1976. The open loops of the hand. Thinking of Louie seeing its generosity and freedom. What exactly is the tight small writing of these years.
Last evening Luke brought a random dot stereogram. When Louie came in after yoga I told her what to do but not what to expect. Let your eyes drift so you see four dots not two. Okay now bring them together so there are only three and just stare at the middle one. Now keep the same focus and very gently let your eyes drift down onto the picture.
Luke has arrived at the door for this. We're under the lamp at the desk. We see her staring at the stereogram grinning, seeing what we can't see but what we remember seeing. It took her a couple of seconds.
And her stories from work. What to do with ESL beginners. Mime to give the Asian women equality.
Sensation at the top of the head when the depth is going to set. It's hard to find but quite stable when found. Might be hypnotic, might be the ant-band prickle of crystal clairvoyance.
Rowen said instead of a story about his childhood he'd tell about how he's going to be. A silence. "Well how." "I'm thinking. I'll be quite a bit like Michael but I won't have a hat and I won't be bald."
(Station Square in the car across the road from flowering plums with thick blooming tipped-up crooks of bough on the sun side and the dark trunk pushed north by the excitement. What else. The blossom is pink, the leaves small copper bits receding in the cloud, then the branches in weight-bearing courses right up inside it are black - darkish - dark brown with a green moss, and back behind it's powder blue. People from the skytrain coming to their cars or to the station. Gasoline and exhaust.)
Rowen woke this morning (Michael said) asking what day is it. "I think it's Friday." "It's my mom's birthday!" And now Louie's going to get off the skytrain and be seen on that bit of platform above the stairs.
7th
Today a persimmon tree. Driving slow through Shaughnessy. Planting peas, red onions, shallots, radishes, spinach. L says next week her serious man coming to a co-op radio conference, who she wanted with a thorough ache. Rowen's two red roses with baby's-breath filling out the package. L reading the 1976 journal. I'm forty-seven. A box of chocolate truffles on the bed. Luke with work, dirty clothes, curly hair, looser, more at home. Rob forgives me when I'm at the garden with L. L got a little fuck she wanted, woke with clear corners on her mouth. Rare balance. Streets with summer luxury of bloom. Breakfast on the pavement in Kits. People making first appearances at the garden. Clematis armandii scent in the car. Mary's $300 going to Venda where it's enough to fund a girl to school for a year.
9
Monday. A sensation in her room and on Friday of clog, thickness, dullness. I want to get away from it but get tacked into place by anxieties. Her grin comes at me like a demonic gargoyle. A spirit fixed as rock.
-
The way it feels is, either I'm defending myself from being loved, cos I'm not strong enough, or else she doesn't know what she's doing and my instincts are right to say back out, don't be taken in. I don't feel known. I don't want to live in that greasy air.
I say there are hard things to be said and I don't want to be stuck with saying them. Something isn't what it seems and the only thing I can do is wait until it's revealed.
A rush of dreams last night, powerful dreams, flying fast in different kinds of skies. That was early, the later ones I felt, I've felt, but can't recall.
[A spirit uncertain of its appearance notes:
Telling me to walk carefully so it doesn't show so much
I'm a conspicuous cripple. There's no bluffing it out. Time to let it show and be a body. Also the direct passionate moves are better than the selfconscious ones. It is bizarre what a dream I've lived in. The whole body is a deformity, as a visible body. As a vehicle it is better than I think.
Not an eccentricity of hardened flesh, erosion, damage - deformed by acts of moral violence.
This is the sort of thing that happens: there are two of them at a table talking about disabled people, someone's child, a man with a steel hand. I take a deep shock from it, I'm sent away into painful aloneness, because they are speaking as if they themselves are safe outside that category. That's two kinds of loneliness, they've put me on the other side of a line, I'm sent into a category of people considered unwhole. And I'm left alone with what I never stop seeing, their deformity. Your deformities. The unofficial disabilities.]
11th
Populist decentralist grassroots.
Issues of ecology, scale, local forms of oppression, style of leadership. "Class consciousness is knowing which side of the fence you are on; class analysis is knowing who is there with you." Constituencies for whom. The workings of global economy and popular empowerment are crucial concerns. Unions, women's groups.
We don't see into each other. I don't see into a spirit, I see a body. But don't I see people, their nature? Yes but not their moment.
Sick with missing the real thing. What we do is what there always was before. Yak yak, laugh. Talking dolls.
12
In the Westin Bayshore coffee and orange juice is $5 with tip. Dirty runners. Joyce's new barge. Last night Rowen's cake. Luke gets up early these sunny mornings, I hear him stepping back and forth quietly. Before he leaves I smell the toast. Are his footsteps going downstairs? Yes, very lightly. The door closes. I get up in a house I have to myself, but peopled.
-
She says he wants his mother to love him but she competes with him. I say he can have anything he wants, why should I give him that. She says do you want more life and pleasure? Then you have to give up heavy bitterness. I say if I stop being mad at big goodlooking men I'll be a sitting duck. She says, I know you think that.
Talking to the cards a joy when they say there'll be a dark friendly young man. Well it only means I'll be in touch with that net in my base. But it means I'll be in touch with love, and not in a displaced way, not desperately or hopefully or hopelessly. I'll find another strategy for love unaccepted (than to refuse it in me).
I dreamed I came into a place where I was staying. So neglected. I'd been away. It's crowded. Dead cats and thin hungry cats. Shovel them up, throw them out. Feed them. It's damp. So many plants, put them outside. Mosses, lichens, plants in containers. Keep emptying them outside. More dishes into the dishwater. Standing there Norman Schwartz comes kisses me on the cheek. The place cleared out is drier, dry sunny heat. This is more the sort of place for me.
Things that go together - not seeing into people, concretizing their state - not seeing into Luke - being vanquished by Sandy's angora sweater - being mean to Abraham - what's sleazy in my collaboration with Louie - the people I cut off and how what's cut off bulges into how I am with denatured men and some women - a very weak part.
[Dame's rocket:
seeing the hits and misses going by, both missing some
I came with a pain. and I ignored it. I ignored it too
to use the body to see both of us
silver paper
the tuareg woman
spinoza
what did I teach you? to know what I know
crystal or showstone or mirror. black glass. speculum. shallow black bowl half full of ink
everything I do these days is making support for this effort to make myself someone who is not left behind: seen into but not seen through
that story, that you have a soul and can lose it, anxiety planted in a being
mineral structures, nets
and it is just starting
something has closed! I'm shouting with frustration
when I described the dream to you I saw it better than I had
I can hear you thinking, the rhythm though not the content
I don't mean I think they're damned, but I think they're afraid of something
woods' low ceiling, piles of stones, a wire fence bent squares among the branches
a warm stone like a cube room
mottled slug, four antlers retreating, lifting its skirt
ferry, shadows cutting over the foam
going through a red bridge
light on the side of a boat
to see the released person is blinding and terrifying unless you're there too
I said, do you want to do that or not? if not, say so. you said you would like to but you didn't think you could
you said I want to be the one but I don't think I am
singing a second a third a fourth a fifth
I look at people to see what they know
one extension of a gull's wing]
13
Blue light. Low enough so it shines through bits of leaf. Small daffs, arabis. Looking south is a little tizzy. Red paeony stalks. The way rose leaves start folded, can't say how new they look, sharp little edges finely serrated, outlined in red, seen in the act of lifting themselves open.
Luke came home from work in dirty clothes, black beard, burnt nose. Soft, cross-eyed, nice. Louie in Seattle having met David Barsamian (and what do I think about her - mixed - Louie's a girl who's easy to like, sympathetic - Louie's kind of gutless, she likes people to like her, won't stand against, won't guarantee her no - a mind cooped up with people, sticky, local, nastily observant - brilliant, brilliant with ordinary people, private original senses always - crude - exquisite).
14
What sort of images for Dames' rocket. Walking with the Canon's zoom thinking there was a lot she saw, we saw, and also there is (maybe what Lis does) some structural expression I can guess at now.
Rowen sleeping on the ground, Louie drives the car over him. He's between the tires but I say it's too close. She revs the engine and rocks the car. She says she thinks it's 'perky,' spirited, to be like that. I get him out, find him something to sleep on. The car's gone. Should tell the police, she'll be heading for the Mexican border. Look around for what we'll have to carry. A briefcase. We can put in the quilt.
Surface of the mirror gradually moves out of focus. The tickling of the ant. Tight band around forehead. Poised and relaxed. literal and symbolic. An image with a knowledge of what it means.
Essence of a thing its use in/for being.
[Dame's rocket:
swallows playing with the surface
our connected being is in shock
a sweet evening, rose light on the far town
somewhere near, cutting paper
one cherry shining in a tree
a flock twinkling
the big plane coming down low
grass moonlit heads, little poplars with big leaves
antlers
a mirror used to make a twin
where is the lovely kissing
bug on a page, its shadow
driving at night
it is to do with whose mind becomes the marriage
watch going into shock
the way we'd be easily stunned by something we hadn't taken account of, a dream or something said
turning off the light to see the blue outside morning
eyes with deep slick and wetness on them
in the morning there was such subtle color of light on the white wall and ceiling
wind graphs
the arm that was between white sleeve and stick shift
lamplight moving on graph paper
at the mercy of the man
the degradation and disgrace of the woman
contradiction I'd shut out of me, that what I am happily in full instinctive pleasure, what I am in heart and centre is a woman who loves men, and that to express that I would have to lose everything else, because as a woman I am not complete and therefore cannot resist the part of the man that wants to destroy me.
body full of color, breasts alive
making the body burn]
15
I am with Louie in Peter Epp's place, the art building. A section on the ground floor where Jam and I lived a while ago. It's been derelict. My thought is I might like Louie to live with me there, but I wonder if it can be repaired. The rest of the building as it's been for a while, second floor yuppy artists, but the ground floor/basement I know from another visit has had derelicts sleeping in it. And the top floor I don't know, is there a stairs up that doesn't go through the middle floor?
My father appears at the pane of the door saying if we're going to live there we should let the owners know. When we see him later he's reading a letter by the letter boxes. Is he himself the owner? We were on the left/west end of the building. The other end, seeing if there is a clean bathroom. A room with three tub stalls, tubs filthy, and the third a dark pit I don't want to look into, a pit into a sewer maybe.
I can touch her and she can't touch me. I love to touch her. There's nothing in her body I hold back from. A pocket of her brilliance I said. But when she touches me I'm left to anxiety, this touch isn't taking care of me. I'm lost with my failure to be moved. When she was telling her story her touch was clear and soft. Her story had assurance in it. What I think is that it's because I don't respect her. I think my body's holding out for a mutual mind with space in it.
- Is it the house of art
- Is my mind of art largely derelict
- Is the second floor the way I'm promoting rather than being
- I'm drastically unclean in that place
- What is it that's filthy about Louie and me (Kns)
- Our common war against something else
- Our hatred of other people
- Is it mainly her hatred
- What should I do with my house of art (3c)
- My actual self is very frightened
- Is my mind of art largely derelict
- pleroma - language of action among things
- creatura - world as mind
I do not want people to please me, said the traveler, I want them to teach me.
It says it's true there's no one who can give me that now. What follows? I'm on my own. I like that. I can work.
It's a question of developing an attention of such strength and sensitivity that two fundamental cosmic forces which on one level are intrinsically at war with each other, come together under an even greater force of reconciliation ... the middle way, to struggle for an attention that can embrace two opposite forces
16
At her radio conference, finding people unbearable, L made attention to the smells pouring from their mouths. A lot of information also about when they are physically inimical.
A month not talking about people. She says no keeping up with daily lives. I say no praise. No talk about relationships of any kind.
We went for a walk. Rain had washed pink cherry drift into the raked lines of the cracks between bricks. There was space in the branches of the trees. Lit windows were exhibitions. A basement window closed behind a little citrus tree like someone on a stage; a kid looking out, intense yellow light held in the cotton. Wild plums are white and thorny in many gardens. A magnolia in front of a house is a tree with white leaves, wings lifted.
My dad making a cabin for himself in the old Jansen house. I see through the door - curtains carefully chosen - a plaid and a print of ducks flying. What I'm noticing is he's giving more care to his own cabin than he ever gave to his family house. His theme he says is hunting. Gun hardware. There's a canon outside the door going off at intervals in case there are ducks in front of it. (Later some discussion about whether they're blanks.) I offer to help him, thinking it's good he's making his own place, but that's before I see it's dedicated to gun culture.
[from 1977: On the road noticing rebuilding, a second story on Grandpa Peter Epp's house. Walking on the lane through it said this is a dream, I can be perfectly free to see and do what I want. On the road there had been an urchin girl.]
The avocado seed. When I first register the voice of her power. Then her drunkenness. We stumbled into depths we couldn't handle.
17
Book on magic practices yesterday talks about orgasm as a rocket.
Is the exiled girl adoration? An extraordinary dilemma.
18
Redgrove. Sore throat colds since the bad winter with Jam, enzyme lack since winter after, anus skin since terror about Roy kidnapping, liver sick with Roy's freakout, leg lapsing since losing J, eye bobbles since J in Valhalla.
A bully man or boss man coming toward me, his wife and I commenting. He's intending to get me down. "Big man." Eyeing him, "He's not so big." A guy not taller than me, flabby. I'm holding him down easily. Try again. Same. Try again. I'm holding him down by lying on him with my right arm stretched over my head pushing down his hand at the end of his arm. Saying to his wife ironically, This must be what DH Lawrence called my wise passivity.
It was Louie who said, What are you so easily holding down.
- What is the man (Qc)
- My love woman sensitivity
- I'm easily holding down with my practical and rational
- Who's the wife your intuition etc
- Am I going to be able to get my intuitive feeling side back
- Why was I able to get to it then fighting
- Louie's part in this process slow growth
- She's also slowly growing
- My love woman sensitivity
[Black goddess notes:
girl in the dark, animal soul, night
air, wings, dove
weather, wind, storm
red mud-laden waters
queen of Egypt, queen of night
a rumor that she herself was the Messiah
a charged atmosphere
the light of lights by which invisible lights are made visible
black stone
smell taste and touch
a surrounding mist
enter in imagination the being of minerals, plant, animals, other humans see through the eyes and hear through the ears of
the room was full of a golden-colored gossamer arranged in
a webwork that emanated from fluffy centres of gold
there remains in the soul a clean light together with warmth
he who has made his soul dry like a spider has put on this aerial tunic
the heart mind and chest will feel open and free
the black earth is itself wisdom
the dark light of touch
blind woman with the black snake
candlemas and the black madonna, the black flame
star maiden
and mutual angel of streaming and hypnagogy
requests and questions, call each other into deeper states
next morning do creative work
the nerve tree, an aerial
energized disturbance that can only be satisfied 'so that the nectars flow' by profound sex
silver vapor above a cup
white goddess is full moon, ovulation, fertility
hades invisibility, riches of invisibility
Hekate phosporos mary light-bearer lumen naturae
transformation of inner sadistic anima or animus figures
incestuous energy Dionysian not properly received in childhood
the mantic stain
sealed writing
whole breathing in front of something
alternate nostril
watch if atmosphere changes when you speak of dreams
longing for a life-giving pictorial space
'a contact barrier' with a rich unconscious substructure
in attempting to make conscious again the repressed primal memory of the birth trauma reinstate the high estimation of women which was repressed simultaneously with it
comes to grief at the crossroad of sexual depth, which most nearly approaches the primal situation for it is the nearest approach to the pleasure experienced inside the mother
as if that womb-companion were a guardian angel
menstruation reactivating the blood threshold
thermal expressions under the skin
She could read the muscular tensions of her sighted companion to a degree of fineness which could distinguish the way she stood or held herself in the presence of different persons.
"I sense the rush of etherial rains"
the hypnotized senses of the young girl, touch taste smell hearing, or "the hysterical patient"
exciting effect of a field of flowering grass
warm and humid conditions of a preparing weather-change
storm centre greatest barometric depression, rain precedes the storm
warm damp low pressure aspirin
either in poetry or in rheumatism \ neuralgic margin of a storm serotonin
within clouds molecules of water charged by sunlight
electrons move to higher energy-shell, merest touch of another frequency causes them to drop a shell, release in-phase EM frequencies that bounce in cloud until they burst out infra-visible
piezo-electricity, pressures in crystals, hair, skeleton
the shining of the dark whore Persephone
mighty rushing wind
subtle structures of perfume
the radiant continuum of EM
migrant flights of spruce bud-worm moths, 100K clouds, these flying cities of moths fluoresce
moon behind clouds still reflects infra-red
female moth pheromone intensely fluorescent in infra-red
a maser cloud pulsing coherent broadcast
nighttime is primarily an infra-red environment
Venus and stars
Jung "the unconscious is nature, which never deceives"
the sense of touch in fish, feel the entire length of the stream in which they live, or throughout a body of water like a lake
eels that see by the deflections of an electric field they generate
dogs sniff right down into the gene (ie not twins)
dogs 220 million olfactory cells humans 5 million
moths more again than dogs
scents change body structure
spider webs are telegraphic
cat can hear down to minimum subatomic quantum-noise level
- 10 am seabirds screaming darkened the sky
- 11:30 dogs flee out of houses
- 11:45 earthquake
- 11:30 dogs flee out of houses
Lewis Thomas unconscious subcellular detail of the body IS collective unconscious because so much is common here
disease results from inconclusive negotiations for symbiosis, misunderstanding of borders
the animal soul "despised as the fallen daughter"
the immune system is affected by a bad marriage
"not in the fresh mobile tissue whose form is constrained merely by the active forces of the moment"
Redgrove Peter 1971 The black goddess
and the unseen real Grove/Atlantic
- aphrodite's garden volume 14: 1992 february-september
- work & days: a lifetime journal project